sweetbriarpoet
Flower Fortune- Sweetbriar: Poetry and fragrance.
Fifty-Third Entry
Two weeks ago Harry and I had our night out. Was it you that suggested it, Mamajo? Yes, I believe so. It was the greatest night of my adult life.
And so I will dwell on it to bring out the thick ice from my chest.
We were finally people again, Harry and I. People who could hold hands and drink drinks and mingle with those our own age and younger. We could dance and kiss and eat dinner without having to sit on the counter or the stove for comfort.
We were finally able to talk, to resist the urge to always laugh, able to look at each other and realize how we've changed so much.
Harry said, I cannot believe you are you, and I have you here. And I couldn't help but answer with a raised eyebrow. You could always be here if you liked. And it was a tease and he liked it because it meant I did not regret a thing, and did not wish to take his dreams from him. And you are beautiful, he said, taking me out of our safe-haven, dressy restaurant to a bar where suited men and lipsticked women eyed us like celebrities. Do we look as wonderful as all that, Harry asked, blushing, so used to attention, but hating all the same.
A man touched my arm went Harry went to the bathroom, asked to buy me a drink. He was so handsome, middle-eastern, dressed as if he could have bought me Paris. Slightly drunk I said, I have a dance partner, and Harry walked up, nodded at him, and brought me to the floor.
Edward is enough, he said playfully, flushed from drink, eyes wide with the thrill of being out.
We have to go home, I said. Or else I'll never make it.
And we taxied back as if we had the money to do so.
It is our night, he said and laid me in bed with my clothes on.
But now, it is later, it is night, he is gone, the clock ticks, and my life is changing too fast for me.
I am still drinking, I think.
And so I will dwell on it to bring out the thick ice from my chest.
We were finally people again, Harry and I. People who could hold hands and drink drinks and mingle with those our own age and younger. We could dance and kiss and eat dinner without having to sit on the counter or the stove for comfort.
We were finally able to talk, to resist the urge to always laugh, able to look at each other and realize how we've changed so much.
Harry said, I cannot believe you are you, and I have you here. And I couldn't help but answer with a raised eyebrow. You could always be here if you liked. And it was a tease and he liked it because it meant I did not regret a thing, and did not wish to take his dreams from him. And you are beautiful, he said, taking me out of our safe-haven, dressy restaurant to a bar where suited men and lipsticked women eyed us like celebrities. Do we look as wonderful as all that, Harry asked, blushing, so used to attention, but hating all the same.
A man touched my arm went Harry went to the bathroom, asked to buy me a drink. He was so handsome, middle-eastern, dressed as if he could have bought me Paris. Slightly drunk I said, I have a dance partner, and Harry walked up, nodded at him, and brought me to the floor.
Edward is enough, he said playfully, flushed from drink, eyes wide with the thrill of being out.
We have to go home, I said. Or else I'll never make it.
And we taxied back as if we had the money to do so.
It is our night, he said and laid me in bed with my clothes on.
But now, it is later, it is night, he is gone, the clock ticks, and my life is changing too fast for me.
I am still drinking, I think.
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